Skeletons in the Herring Closet?
Margaret Otto, Australia
Fa’s a’ in ma faimly fae days gone bye?
I thocht I’d fin’ oot and gie it a try.
These foostie auld fowk I’d nivver met,
Sae, I stairted lookin up the Internet.
My grannie, I kenned the date she wis born,
Sae that wis a start an’ I wisna forlorn.
I foon oot her mam an her faither as wee1
An soon I wis daein’ this we a guid feel.
Soon I wis beeriet in names by the score
This ane and that an’ a guid mony mair.
Sutherlands, Campbells Thains an’ a few
Miltons, Clarks, Coulls and Andersons too.
Syne there wis Gardens, Smiths an Protts
Howies, Fletts - o’ them there wis lots.
An’ fan I foon’ a message board
It wis fu' o’ yet anither hoard.
The ancestor’s micht hae sprauchled wide
Naebody can say that they can hide.
Aboot the warld they’d settled sae free
I’ve sae foon a puckle bidin’ near me
John Hutton’s writ a beuk an’ filled every page
0’ decendants of Fletts - he’s got every stage.
Charles Flett foon oot a’ the Finechtie fishers.
Wi’ fowks lik ‘at - they answer yer wishes.
Noo I’ve discovered the people o’ Buckie
Are connected close an’ it makes ye sae Lucky
To find ye’re related tae a’body, if ye may,
Sae I’m aff noo tae check my DNA
The results are back and they looked at me queer
The medical lots were absent of cheer
The culture was tested and they were most caring
They telt me I was half human an’ half Buckie herring.
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